


Oh, Brother!

by Emachinescat



Category: Hardy Boys - Franklin W. Dixon
Genre: Angst, Bromance, Drabble Collection, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Mystery, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-27
Updated: 2011-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-13 18:29:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1236625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emachinescat/pseuds/Emachinescat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twelve moments with our favorite brothers and their friends. Humor, angst, mystery, whump, friendship - all genres, all fun. 12 drabbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Gray Man

**Author's Note:**

> Don't own, for entertainment purposes only.
> 
> Enjoy. :)

"Have you ever wondered," said Joe, "why he's called the 'Gray Man'? I mean, he's not actually  _gray_."

Frank stared at his brother blankly. "His personality is gray enough."

Joe plowed on, ignoring his brother. "If  _I_  were a secret agent, I'd have a  _cool_  code name. Like 'Lightening Blitz'. Or 'Total Terminator'. Or—"

"How about 'Mega Dork'?" Frank suggested, smirking.

"Ha ha," said Joe. "And what would yours be? 'Boring Braniac'?"

"Nah," said Frank. "With  _you_  as my brother, I'd be 'Facepalm'."

"Wow," said Joe. "That's… probably true."

Frank just shook his head and returned to his homework.


	2. Boredom

"I hate it when we get kidnapped," Joe grumbled from where he was tied up on the floor. He wriggled around to face Frank. "It's  _so_  boring."

Frank rolled his eyes, exasperated. "I think we have bigger problems than  _boredom_ , Joe."

"We should find a way to pass the time so we don't just lie here in awkward silence until rescue comes, you know?"

"No," said Frank, "Not really."

"Ooh! I know!" Frank decided he wasn't sure that  _he_  wanted to know. "We could tell jokes!" Joe suggested.

"Please," Frank begged to no one in particular. "Kill me now."


	3. You've Got to Be Joking!

Joe wiggled in his bonds, looking far too pleased with himself. Frank braced himself for the worst torture imaginable – from his own  _brother!_  How could Joe  _do_  this to him?

Said self-proclaimed funnyman grinned. "What do you call four bullfighters in quicksand?" he asked, snickering.

Frank rolled his eyes. "Why do I have the feeling you're going to tell me anyway?"

" _Quatro_ Sink-O! Geddit? 'Cuz bullfighters are Spanish? And  _quatro_  is  _four_  in Spanish and  _cinco_  is  _five_ , but I said sink- _o_ , because they're in quicksand and sinking!"

"Oy," Frank groaned. "Why couldn't they have gagged us, too?"

Joe smirked.


	4. My Fault

"It wasn't your fault," Frank said. "You can't keep blaming yourself."

" _Stop_  saying that!" ordered Joe, eyes wide, nearly hysterical.

"It's the  _truth_."

"No, it's not," said Joe, fingering the keys hanging around his neck. His voice trembled. "She would've been eighteen today, Frank."

"It wasn't—"

"Stop, Frank. Please. I've heard this too many times. I don't want someone else to blame, I want  _someone_  to blame  _me!_ "

"Joe—"

Joe turned and walked away without another word.

Frank rose from his seat. "Not your fault," he murmured. Then, he, too, retreated. There was nothing left to be said.


	5. Missing

Joe had been missing for two weeks now.

At first, Frank had just  _known_  that Joe would be found. How could he not? It was  _Joe_ , after all – no matter the amount of trouble, that boy had the luck of the devil and always made it through somehow. There hadn't been a kidnapping or assassination attempt that Joe hadn't come through, even if he was left with some scars. Joe was strong. And he  _always_  came back.

But now… it had been  _two_   _weeks_  and not a sign or trace of him. He'd vanished.

Frank wanted his brother back -  _now_.


	6. Gone

"It's been three weeks since your brother went missing, Frank," the FBI agent said. "I know your record as an ace investigator and that you want to continue the search, but you have to face the facts – there's no point. He's _gone_."

 _"No._  Joe's resourceful, strong, and nothing if not bullheaded – he's still alive, fighting, and we  _will_  find him. Trust me, I know my brother. He's like a boomerang – no matter how far away he gets, he always comes back, whether you want him to or not," he joked, not sure if he still believed his own words anymore.


	7. Lost

He didn't know where he was, how he had gotten there, or what he was doing there. He wasn't even sure  _who_ he was anymore. He had a name, he thought, although he couldn't quite recall it. So he settled with  _Joe_ , because that was what his captor called him.

He didn't know his past but as of right now his future looked grim. He was well acquainted with pain and it had become his master.

Revenge.

Yes, that was why he was hurting.

Join us.

Another mantra he heard daily.

Maybe he would, if it would stop the pain.


	8. Found

They found him in an abandoned warehouse, bound and drugged. It was six weeks since he'd gone missing, six weeks of agonizing search and waiting.

Joe opened his eyes as a dark-haired man untied him, tears running from his eyes as he worked. "We've found you, Joe, we've found you, you're alright, you'll be okay…" He was babbling, but Joe found he didn't mind. His pain-riddled brain didn't recognize the speaker but he trusted him instantly.

"Joe, are you still with me?"

Much to his surprise, Joe managed to answer the familiar stranger. "I will be, Frank."

And he remembered.


	9. Who's Nancy?

"Remember that time you had to go undercover with Nancy, and you had to make out in the middle of the parking lot so the goons chasing you couldn't see your faces?" Joe grinned, reminiscing about old times.

"No, I most certainly do  _not_  remember that!" Frank protested, sending a pointed glance at Callie, who crossed her arms.

"Oh," she said curtly. "Who's Nancy?"

"Yeah," said Joe, grinning ear to ear. "Who _is_  Nancy?"

"Joe," said Frank. "Sometimes I  _really_  hate you." Joe laughed; Frank turned to Callie. "She's no one, Cal, I swear."

"I'll tell'er you said that, bro."


	10. Don't Wake Me

The nights he spends alone with her are his favorite.

They don't do much, really, just sit and talk about things. The future.  _Their_  future. And sometimes they'll dance.

When they dance, she floats across the crystal dance floor like an angel, black hair framing her perfect face in little curls, purple silk dress hugging her slim frame. He cherishes her closeness, the feel of her hand in his, her head on his shoulder.

Perfect.

Sometimes he'll lean in for a kiss goodnight, like the first night he took her out. She disappears before he can.

He hates waking up.


	11. Oh, So THAT'S Nancy!

"Frank? Joe? Is that you? Wow, it's  _so_  great to see you again!" The tall, slender, and, Callie noted,  _beautiful_ titan-haired girl gave Joe a friendly hug before moving onto Frank,  _his_ hug lasted longer than Joe's had.

"What're you doing here, Nance?"

"Case. Chasing baddies, taking names, kicking butt. Y'know, the usual."

Joe looked like Christmas had come early. "Callie, meet Nancy. Nancy, Callie."

"Nice to meet you." Callie's voice was polite but strained.

Joe giggled. "Hey, Ladies' Man, we'd better go. You're gonna start a cat-fight over here!"

"Joe," said Callie, Frank, and Nancy in unison, "Shut. Up."


	12. Prank Call

"Joe," said Frank, "I dunno if we should do this."

"Oh, come  _on!_ " Joe goaded. "Live a little, Frank!"

Frank sighed and shrugged; Joe took it as acquiescence. He dialed the number and waited.

"Arthur E. Gray."

Joe deepened his voice, exchanging a devious grin with his brother.

"Hi, is this Gunner?"

" _Who?_ Where did you get this number?"

"Yes, Mr. Tinkle, sir, is that you?"

"No! I am  _not_  Gunner Tinkle!" A pause as realization came. "Joseph Hardy, I suppose you boys think that this is funny, do you?"

Frank and Joe chuckled. "Yes," Frank acknowledged, "yes, we do."


End file.
